Random musings on life, society, and politics

Month: November 2017

“Yes, Daddy. Snow. I’ve never seen snow in real life. I’ve never even touched it. I want to know what it’s like to have a white Christmas.”

Jack and his wife moved to South Florida from New Hampshire about 12 years earlier, before Darla was born. Since their divorce, Darla stayed with Jack alternating weekends and every other Christmas and Thanksgiving. This year, it was his turn to host her for Christmas.

He thought back to his days in New Hampshire and how he loved to hike in the woods during the winter. Despite the sometimes bitter cold, it was invigorating, energizing. He could understand why his daughter, who had never been outside of Florida, might want to experience a real winter.

“Okay,” Jack said. “Let me clear it with your mother and then I’ll make plans to take you to where there is snow.”

After getting his wife’s blessing, Jack booked flights and a hotel room and, a few days before Christmas, he and Darla headed north. He didn’t know which of them was more excited, Darla at the prospect of seeing snow for the first time, or him heading back to the stomping grounds of his younger days.

On the first day of their trip they went to a local clothing store and bought flannel shirts, water-resistant snow pants, winter jackets, knit caps, gloves, and hiking boots. On the second day, they woke up early, ate a hardy breakfast, dressed warmly, and headed out onto a woodsy trail that followed a small stream.

Darla was tickled by being able to see her breath as she breathed and talked. She and Jack engaged in a friendly snowball fight, before continuing their hike. After a few hours on the trail, though, Jack noticed that Darla seemed a little less enthusiastic than she had been when they first started out. “Darla, honey, are you okay?” he asked.

She looked up at her father, not wanting to disappoint him. “I’m very cold, Daddy. I’m kinda wet, too. And I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Do you want to head back to the hotel?” he asked.

Darla nodded. “Yes, Daddy. And then can we go back home? I don’t think I like the snow as much as I thought I would,” she said. “And it’s just too cold here. Not like Florida.”

“Sure, sweetie,” he said, wondering if the store would take back all the winter clothing he had bought just the day before.

Like this:

The dispatcher had received a call from the housemate of a 26-year-old white female who hadn’t returned home the night before from a blind date and wasn’t answering her cellphone.

It wasn’t a surprise that, at first, the police paid little attention to the dispatcher’s report. After all, mornings were like a zoo at the precinct. All of the nocturnal creatures from the night before were stepping into the light, so to speak, and the officers on duty were barely keeping their heads above water.

Besides, these are modern times and the woman was over 21. Perhaps she and her blind date really hit it off. Maybe she intentionally shut off her cell so as not to spoil “the moment.” But when she also failed to show up for work that morning, the report started to get some serious attention.

Detective Fred Morrisey had been given a heads up when they found a green dress and some other articles of clothing hidden in the bushes around the reservoir about two hours after the initial missing persons call. According to the paperwork Morrisey had reviewed, the green dress matched the description of what the missing woman had been wearing when last seen by her housemate. No wallet, purse, or cellphone were found where the clothing had been spotted.

Was she alone or with her blind date, Morrisey silently wondered. Who was he and what happened to him? Could it have been an attempted robbery that went bad? Something as simple as a purse snatching? Maybe the victim fought back and ended up getting injured — or worse — in the struggle.

Morrisey’s experienced gut told him that sooner or later the uniforms would find the naked body of the woman who belonged in that green dress. But until they did, there was no case for him to pursue. Without a body, there was nothing for him, a homicide detective, to officially investigate. No body, no homicide.

He had other cases he was working, so he put the report about the missing woman aside. When his desk phone rang five minutes later, Morrisey knew even before he answered it that the body of the missing young woman had been found.

Looking at the map, David was trying to figure out how to get to the museum. “I think it’s just a few blocks from here,” he said to his wife. Not hearing a response, he turned around and saw that she was taking yet another selfie, with that ridiculous duck face expression.

“How many of those stupid, pouty selfies are you going to take on this trip?” David asked her.

“I want all of my Facebook friends to see how much fun we’re having,” she said.

David sighed. “Then you should try aiming the camera at something other than yourself.”

Like this:

The little snippet flashed across my iPhone’s screen this morning. “Oh no, not Matt Lauer, too,” I said to my wife.

Lauer joins a whole host of other famous and, for the most part, previously well-respected, highly-regarded men who have been accused of sexual misconduct. Men like Charlie Rose of CBS and PBS, Congressman John Conyers, Senator Al Franken, comedian Louis C.K., and actor Kevin Spacey, just to name a few. Many of these men have lost their jobs and their standing.

And yet Alabama Republican voters seem to be on a trajectory to elect Roy Moore, an accused pedophile and serial sexual assaulter of teenage girls, as their new US senator. The question remains whether or not the Republicans in the Senate will allow him to take the seat if he is elected. My money’s on yes they will, because they need the votes to pass legislation that will destroy America as we know it.

Of course, Roy Moore claims it’s all fake news and that the accusers are lying as part of a vast left-wing conspiracy to smear him. He’s even throwing blame on some mainstream Republicans like Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell.

Isn’t it funny that Roy Moore is following the same tactics as the orangutan in the Oval Office, Donald Trump, who is also an accused sexual predator, and who denied the accusations of the women who came forward, calling them all liars.

“Anyone can hit a bullseye with an arrow. It takes a real marksman to paint a bullseye around an arrow that’s already been shot.”

Okay, so my response to Linda G. Hill’s One-Liner Wednesday prompt today is actually two lines. But yesterday’s one-word prompt from WordPress, “one-way,” was arguably two words, “one” and “way,” with a hyphen between them.

Anyway, I heard Jordan Klepper, formerly a correspondent on The Daily Show, say that bullseye quote on his own new show on Comedy Central, The Opposition.

In that show, Klepper presents a half hour of political hot takes under the guise of a somewhat unhinged conservative talk show host along the lines of Infowar’s Alex Jones.

I actually find The Opposition to be quite good, but I always found Klepper’s bits on The Daily Show to be very witty and often biting. Sure, he’s no Stephen Colbert, but his show is, in my humble opinion, considerably better than the show — The Nightly Show with Larry Wilmore — that initially took Colbert’s time slot after Colbert left Comedy Central to replace David Letterman on The Late Show on CBS.

Unfortunately, I can’t remember specifically what Klepper was referring to when he made his comment, but I have no doubt that it had something to do with the manner in which Donald Trump and his supporters justify their “alternative facts.”